Junkertown Crisis
by LunacyInArt
Summary: Teenage Jamison Fawkes, crippled and abandoned by his only friend, struggles to survive in the ugly slums of Junkertown.
1. Chapter One

"I can't stay."

Mako stares at the fire, mask gripped tight in the fist of his left hand. Hurts him to say that. I can tell.

"No worries, mate." I shrug. "We all gotta move on someday." But my throat's tight, like I'm breathing in gunsmoke.

"We're starving," Mako says. His voice rumbles round the alley. "I need work."

"I get it. Can't cart around the cripple all day, can we?" I shrug again, but even that feels fake. "Look, mate, I ain't stopping ya."

Mako smiles and his scar stretches across his face. "Pitiful," he growls. Fondly. My eyes sting. This place's too full of smoke.

"Well I'm gonna miss you," I tell him.

Mako heaves a sigh and I pull away instinctively. Ooh, I'm in trouble now. He crosses over and sits down in front of me, kicking up a cloud of grime. I try not to cough.

"Jamison," he says, and my stomach twists. Whooo, here it comes. "You are going to die."

"Everyone dies, mate," I say. I wonder if he hears the quiver in my voice.

"Half your leg is gone," he says. "Half your arm is gone. Skinny, shell-shocked, cripple. You'll die sooner than the rest."

I gulp at the lump in my throat. This is more than Mako's ever said to me. For once, Jamie don't know how to respond.

"That's why you," he says, "need to learn. Learn to survive." He reaches out with one hand and grips my shoulder. I keep my good arm wrapped round my middle, dropping my gaze to the asphalt. "One way or another."

"Mako, I'm just a kid." I blurt out. My voice hitches halfway through.

"It's a hard world," he growls. "For you, more hard." He stands up, and fixes on his mask. "But you're strong." He turns around. My only friend. And he walks down the alley, away from me.

"Mako, I'm seventeen!" My voice comes out as a shriek, and that's when I realize I'm scared as hell. "I can't do this. Mako!" I shove myself to my knees, wincing at the blinding pain in my leg. Or what's left of it. " _Mako_!"

Of course, he don't turn around. He don't even look back.

Now I sit huddled up by the fire, watching the sparks flit into the dark. Shivers crawl up my bare back and icy tears slip down to my chin, dripping onto chest.

 _You're strong._

I've never felt weaker in my life.

I wake up curled by a pile of ashes, my arm around my head, my legs pulled to my chest for warmth. I'm stiff all over. When I roll onto my back something pops in the middle of my spine and I groan, rubbing my eyes.

The angry red sun glares back at me, screened by smoke. I wipe the soot from my eyelids and sit up, dazed. Something important happened last night. Wait, no, I've got it - Mako's out foraging. So I shove the ashes to the edge of the alley and prop myself up against the wall, and I sit still, waiting.

Mako doesn't come back. Maybe he's late.

And then with a sickening jolt I remember. My stomach drops about a meter, my throat tightens, and I can hardly breathe through fear.

 _Damn you, Mako._

I scramble to my feet -

- _foot_ -

and with one hand braced against the wall, begin to limp toward the street.

 _What the hell were you thinking? I can't survive. I won't even make it through the day. And what're you doing? Hogging down prawn and martinis at the bar? No. No way._

The twitch in my eye starts to come back and I press my palm to my face to still it, halting at the entrance to the street. Nothing moves beyond, cept a few rats. The half-crushed ute in the middle of the street is still here. Broken glass carpets the ground.

 _No shoes. No food. No home._

The twitch grows worse and I shove my palm to my face so hard black flecks swim round my vision.

 _That's what Dad did, y'know. Dad left soon as it was too hard to keep me. Stupid git._

I get down to my knees and start sifting through the rubble on the sidewalk. Pain jolts up from my leg but I grit my teeth and push through.

 _That's what they all do, Mako. You're just like everyone else._

I'm used to pain. Nothing like constant company to make you appreciate a fellow. Pain keeps me going. But this... it's different, somehow.

 _You frickin' saved me._

This pain makes everything else seem dim by comparison. Far away. Unimportant.

 _I thought I could_ trust _you._

I let out a sharp gasp and jerk my hand out of the rubble, cradling it against my chest, trying to staunch the blood. I rock back and forth for a moment, squeezing my eyes shut to keep back the tears. Been a while since I cried. Been a while since I've been betrayed.

And that's when I decide.

It will _never_ happen again.


	2. Chapter Two

It will never happen again.

That though spins round and round my head like a shell-shocked bluebottle as I sacrifice a little of my arm bandage for my bleeding hand.

Never.

I pull the bandage tight with a grunt and reach back in for my crutch, at the bottom of the pile. I shove it under my arm and gingerly get to my feet. It's a smidge easier to walk this way. I start off down the street, dodging round the piles of glass, jagged cracks in the pavement, fallen roof tiles. I don't know where I'm going. I don't care. Anywhere but here.

Eventually I stop paying attention to anything. A couple times I tread through glass but I don't stop. The pain is a comfort. It's morbidly satisfying to look back and see one bloody footprint after another, trailing away till the nearest bend in the street. So what if I die? It's Mako's fault. It's on his shoulders now.

I take a certain joy in imagining him, finding my body in a ditch somewhere. It'll haunt him, that will. At least someone will protect my memory.

Y'see, death don't frighten me. It's the no one remembering. No one caring. And I guess that's how Mako broke me.

Night falls before I know it. Gas lights start to flicker on a few streets ahead and for the first time in hours, I stumble to a halt. A woman passing the other direction stares at me, and I scowl back. She stiffens and hurries on.

Where now?

My leg's trembling so hard I can barely stand. With difficulty I lower myself down on the sidewalk, stretch out my good leg, and set the crutch over my lap.

I've gotta be careful around here. If any Omnics spot me I'm good as dead. I don't got the dirtiest record, but it ain't the cleanest either, and them Omnics hate the slightest spot of dirt.

My belly grumbles painfully. My gut feels hollow, like someone's carved out me insides with a knife. I've gotta stop feeling sorry for myself and start finding some food.

With difficulty I force myself to my feet again and limp off down the road. Everything hurts now - my feet, my leg, the arm holding the crutch, my back, my head. I think I must be dehydrated cause my skull's pounding and I can't seem to work up spit, even to get the grime outta my mouth. But I keep going.

And soon I'm in the city. Warm light pours from windows, from under doorways and from shopfronts. My belly protests even more as the smell of fresh bread wafts across my path. There's a few people walking around and unmistakably, I draw stares.

Just keep walking, Jamie. No Omnics here.I've got to find a place to hide, a place nearby, but where I'll go unnoticed. I keep trudging on, watching every passerby. No... no one here is rich. Not even close. But many of em are well fed, or at least, not starving. Wouldn't hurt to steal a little bite of bread from one of the bakers round here. And maybe someday I'll be able to pay em back.

"Excuse me?"

I twist round on my crutch, eyes searching. Then I see her. A little Spanish girl, barely a teen, sneaking up behind me like a stalker.

"Whaddya want?" My voice comes out hoarse, almost raspy.

She straightens up, glaring. "You're bleeding," she says, pointing to my foot. "Thought you'd like to know."

The attitude in her voice ticks me off. "Think I don't know, mate?" I ask. "Think I haven't noticed half my body's ripped off?"

"You're losing a lot of blood," she says, ignoring me. "You should find a doctor."

I grip the crutch with half an arm and hobble round to face her. "Get off my arse. I've got enough to handle without you meddling in my business."

With a spike of loathing, I see her smirk. She steps closer to me and instinctively I tense. "I know your secret," she whispers. "Junkrat."

Junkrat. Haven't heard that name in ages. I try to keep from shivering at the memories that brings back.

"What do you want from me?" I ask softly.

"Not much," the girl says, grinning and pulling a strand of hair behind her ear. "I want to take you to a doctor. Fix you up a bit. There's a skilled surgeon just round the corner who can stitch those cuts of yours."

I give her a flat stare. "I ain't seein one of those creeps. I don't need stitching."

"The police are just around the corner too," she says pleasantly. "There's a bounty on Junkrat's head here. Somewhere in the hundred thousands, I'm told?" She cocks her head, thoughtful. "Mama and I could live easy. We could afford the plane back to Dorado."

I've no idea where Dorado is but I'm betting it's hella far. "Aight, I get it," I grumble. "But ain't there anything better to do besides torture me? Don't ya wanna know where my lair is, and all that?"

She grins. "You're so cute. Of course there's time for that. It'll take a while to put your foot back together." She starts off down the street, and like a cheeky little blighter she boops me on the nose as she struts past. "Follow me, Jamie."

For a moment I'm lost. My face is hot and me heart's racing, but it's hard to tell whether that's anger. Sure feels like it. But... well, gotta love a kid with nerve like that.

"Oi!" I shout, and start limping after her. "Didn't catch yer name."

She turns back. "That's a secret," she says, the corner of her mouth twitching. "But you can call me Sombra."


	3. Chapter Three

Even though Sombra's got tiny little legs she still outpaces me in the few minutes we're walking. She keeps throwing glances over her shoulder at me, impatient. Like I can go any faster. I've begun to notice the pain in my foot more acutely now, and I can barely walk on either leg.

"Oi, wait up a moment, won't you?" I finally say, voice strained. "I ain't eaten in two days and I've been walking since nine this morning."

"Well, that's your fault, now isn't it?" she says.

Cheeky little bloitah. It's infuriating. If I didn't feel like I was about to die, I'd probably have laughed.

Sombra seems to regret it after a moment, though. "I'll make sure she feeds you," she says. "She's friends with the baker. She'll be able to snag something."

"And you won't tell her who I am?" I ask sharply.

"Of course not." There's a smile in her voice. "She may recognize you though."

I stop short, opening my mouth to say I don't want anything to do with this after all. But she goes on.

"If she does, I'll just tell her you're a kid I found on the side of the road and you were begging for help. And that I knew immediately that you had a heart of gold despite your rough and unattractive appearance."

Just goes to show how exhausted I am, that I don't even complain when she calls me unattractive.

Sombra helps me up the step to the house, and though I protest at first I'm actually quite grateful. Hopefully by the end of tonight I won't owe her anything. And hopefully she won't need much. I'm beginning to feel woozy, like my head's too heavy for my body, and I can't quite see straight.

The kid leads me to a low cot and tells me to lie down - and daaamn, does that feel good. I have a long, heavy sigh. I can just drift away.

"Don't fall asleep," Sombra says, jolting me out of my reverie.

"Hmm?" I glance at her, but my eyes are already drifting closed again.

"Jamie!" She strides over and pinches my ear, hard, like when my mum used to scold me. "Hey! I know you're tired. Just hang on a little longer. She's almost back."

"I don't see what's the fuss, mate," I mumble.

"The fuss?" And she slaps me, hard, across the face. My eyes flick open and I try to sit up. But there's a kind of cold tingling rushing down my body and my muscles don't seem to be paying attention to me anymore. "The fuss? Jamison Fawkes, you are about to lose consciousness. You've lost so much blood your face looks like plaster. If you go to sleep now, you will never wake up."

"S' Mako's fault," I tell her. "He said he'd take care a' me. Is there a beer round this place perchance?"

"No. Beer will put you to sleep," Sombra says. "Please. Stay awake, Jamie."

"You sound worried, mate."

"Damn right I'm worried." Her face begins to fuzz in front of me and the rest of what she says comes through handfuls of cotton. But then I feel her hand gently holding mine. Her fingers are warm and soft and for a moment, there's something to focus on besides the constant pain.

"I can't," I say, after a moment that seems to last eternity. "I'm conked."

"She's almost back."

"Slap me again." I manage a grin, though my eyelids are drooping and I can't keep them open anymore.

She squeezes my hand. "You're okay," she says. "Listen to my voice, Jamie. You're okay."

I can't feel my legs anymore. Or my chest. Slowly Sombra's hand fades and the room around her begins to dim. She's talking but I don't care what she's saying anymore. Then the darkness closes round, and I drift gently into nothing.


	4. Chapter Four

The world hazes in and out of focus. Voices come and go, only to blend into the background, into the ringing in my ears. Images flash vivid in front of my eyes. Smoke. Fire. The high whining tone in my head never goes away and that drives me bloody insane.

Sombra comes and sits next to me and holds my hand, speaking softly. Then she leaves and Mum sits next to me instead. She's crying but only from one eye. The other dangles from its socket. As she sits beside me I start to see the white fleshy maggots crawling around inside her face.

"Mum, what happened?" I ask, horrified.

"It's okay, baby. Everything's gonna be okay." Even as she speaks the fire flickers up around her and she disappears in a wave of smoke.

Mako pushes through what's left of Mum and stands next to me, silent.

"Go away," I tell him. "You betrayed me _. Go away._ "

"Learn." And he too is gone.

Then I wake up.

I spend a long, long moment staring up at the ceiling and trying to calm my heart. Sometimes I see Mum but only in her long dress and apron, smiling. I don't remember a time when she cried. I squeeze my eyes shut and struggle to block out the ugly image.

"Jamie?"

My chest tightens. I don't look up.

"Jamie, it's me." And for half a second, I can believe it's my mum. I breathe slow and deep and try to remember what she smelled like. Biscuits and tea. And wildflowers.

But I know that's wrong and desperately I try to find out why. I wrack my brain, going over and over the images in my head. Till finally I figure it out.

Her body lies under a fallen chunk of wood, too heavy for me to lift. I try to drag her out from under but it's hard with only one arm. It feels strange, to be suddenly unbalanced where before I was dexterous. My hand is slippery. Hot and cold run down my body in waves and blood splashes in huge drops onto her dress. Her apron. I can still smell faint whiffs of chocolate. Metallic and bitter and ashy and sweet.

"Jamie."

But that's not Mum. The man what rescued me did not come back for her.

"You need to eat. I know you're awake." Then her voice changes just slightly, she speaks just a little softer. "Do you need me to leave you alone?"

I suck a deep breath in through my nose and scrub at my eyes with the back of my hand. "Nah," I say. Hard to hear myself over the ringing. "Stay."

I'm in the same room as when Sombra brought me in. A nice little space, old but well furnished. By the bedside Sombra sits in a bony wooden chair, next to a table bearing a plate of food.

I'm draped in a sheet stained with ash and blood. My body still hurts but it's more bearable now. My arm and hand are freshly bandaged, as well as my leg and foot by the feel of it. My skin is still numb but I'm starting to regain feeling in my good arm.

"How long was I out?" I ask.

"Not too long," Sombra says. "A couple days." She hands me the plate of food. "It's cold but I need you to eat."

I tear off a chunk of the bread with my teeth. That, right there, is the best feeling in the world.

"You barely made it," she says matter-of-factly. "Doc did a very risky blood transplant and your heart almost stopped before he could."

 _You're strong._

"No wonder I feel like crap," I mutter round a mouthful of bread.

She smiles wearily. "Yeah." After a moment of silence she adds, "I should probably go. Get some rest." I nod, but she lingers in her chair, eyes fixed on my face.

"Wha'?" I ask, a little bemused.

"You were crying," she says. "In your sleep. I was just wondering if you need something to help with the pain." She shrugs.

I chew in silence for a long moment, trying to think of what to say. Finally I decide to be honest. I dunno why... maybe there's something dangerous about her. "I'd need a new brain for that, mate," I say.

She gives me a searching look. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I pull a face. "Do I look like I wanna talk?"

She shrugs again, and slips out of the room without another word.

I finish the rest of my food, trying pointedly to think of nothing. My mind, though, keeps coming back to the memory of those dreams like it's a compulsion. Part of me wants to tell her. But the part that wins out says it's best to keep this to myself.

I told Mako. The first night I spent with him after he found me, I told him about the dreams. Not like he didn't know - I woke up screaming every day that first week. At the time, I thought he cared.

I set the plate back on the bedside table and pull back the sheet. My foot's looking pretty good. Good enough to walk. I glance around the room and find my crutch propped up in the corner by the door.

I throw my legs off the edge of the bed and stand up. It don't hurt that bad. I stumble a little, but that's just cause it's been a few days since I've been up. I limp over to my crutch and prop myself between it and the wall, breathing hard. Okay, so maybe I'm not totally better yet. But I'm good enough to leave and find my own way on. Plus, if I leave now then that Sombra girl won't have a chance to interrogate me.

I open the door and step out into the street.


	5. Chapter Five

I'm lucky enough to almost reach the city limits before Sombra tracks me down again. How she does it, I don't know, but I'll bet it's simple to pick out someone like me in a crowd. I wasn't really expecting to get far. But it's been less time than I imagined.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she shrieks, and she takes me firmly by the elbow, steering me in the other direction. I try to resist but lose my balance and decide it's better to come quietly than trip and fall.

"Escaping," I say. "Thought it was obvious."

"Do you _want_ me to turn you in to the police?" She glares at me. "I thought you had at least a hint of intelligence left."

"What do you want from me?"

She blinks. "Excuse me?"

"You said you wanted information," I say. "And that's why you're following me, right? So what do you need?"

Sombra huffs a sigh. "I already found out all I need to know," she says, exasperated. "You talk in your sleep. Quite a lot."

With effort I yank my arm out of her grip. "Then leave me alone," I say. "I can take care of myself."

"Mako won't find you if you're wandering around," she says.

The words take me like punch to the gut. I splutter for a moment, unable to form coherent sounds.

"Yes, I know about Mako," she says. "And I know why he left in the first place."

"He left cause he's a git," I snap.

"Mmm... not really," Sombra says, cocking her head. "I can tell you. But not here."

"I'm not going all the way back to that place," I say.

"Of course not, Jamie." She gestures to a narrow alley just a street down. "Come on. It's more private in there."

"I ain't following you into a dark alley," I tell her. "No frickin' way. You're creepy enough as it is."

Sombra scoffs in exasperation. " _Eres tan tonto!_ Why would I kill you after I went through so much effort to get you a surgeon?"

I shrug. "No idea, mate. No doubt you have your reasons."

"The only reason I have for killing you is that you're a goddamn idiot," she says through gritted teeth. "Fine. You want me to tell you here, in the middle of the street? Mako left because he cares about you. No, listen-" she says as I open my mouth to protest. "Do you know how old he is? He's nearly fifty. He's suffered consistent radiation poisoning for about a dozen years now. He's gonna kick the bucket, and he needs you to be able to handle yourself emotionally before he goes."

"Emotionally?" The twitch comes back but I ignore it. "Mate, I don't need emotional support."

Sombra plants hands on hips. "Well, that's clearly not true," she says. "Look at you. You walked barefoot for who knows how many miles on half a leg. Would you have done that if Mako had stayed? No."

"If he cared about me so much, why'd he leave in the first place?" I demand. "And what makes you think you know everythin' anyway?"

"I know," she says, "because I saw him. While you were unconscious."

I rub my twitching eye with my finger, trying desperately to get it to stop. "If you're gonna lie to me mate, at least make it believable."

"You know I'm telling the truth," she says. "He came and sat by your bed for almost two hours. I talked to him. He didn't say much, but he told me why he left. He said it's for your own good."

"Why should I believe you?"

"Oh, you don't have to," she says, eyes flashing angrily. "I just thought it'd bring you some comfort to know that. He didn't want me to tell you but frankly, that's his mistake."

I stare at her. So many thoughts are knocking around my head I can't focus on any of em. And then finally, the thought I least want to be heard forces its way out before I can stop it. "Is he alright?"

"He's a little sad," Sombra says. "But he's convinced he's done the right thing." She gives me a half smile. "Jamie, I know it's easier to lie to yourself, but those lies can hurt. Okay?"

I glare at the ground and say nothing.

"Please," she says, taking a step closer and looking up into my face. "Take care of yourself. For Mako's sake."

Without sparing a glance at her, I turn away and limp across the street. I'm expecting her to follow, but there's no footfalls behind and she doesn't call after me. And when I eventually look back, she's nowhere in sight.

My mind keeps her speech on repeat as I walk, and with each repeat I get a little madder. I can't shut out the image of Mako sitting beside my bed, watching me in my sleep, me weaker than I've ever been before.

Did he see me crying?

 _Idiot,_ I tell myself. _He wasn't really there. Sombra's just trying to..._

What?

What could Sombra possibly gain from all this?

I duck inside an abandoned building and find a corner to hide in. It's dark here, barely any light gets through the boards on the windows. I huddle up and lean my head against the wall. Funny, it just takes a week to go from carefree to panicking. Maybe I do need support.

I s'pose Mako was more than just a bodyguard. He always rested a hand on my back when I was anxious, too anxious to even get up, or when I was having flashbacks. And he'd wait for me to calm down. He made me eat when I didn't think I could go on. He knew exactly when I needed company and when I needed to be alone.

And I hated him for it.

It's my fault he left, really. I drove him off. He was the best thing that happened to me and I drove him off because I didn't understand what he was doing to me.

I try not to feel guilt, as a rule. Guilt gets you nowhere in this world. But when a wave of guilt rushes over me it's out of my power to stop it. I let it swallow me whole.

My only friend... and he's never coming back.

Does this hurt him as much as it hurts me? I picture him, sitting at a bar, trying to find an employer, and try to imagine what he's thinking.

But I can't. All I know is that he's gone, and I'll never get a chance to say I'm sorry.


	6. Chapter Six

It's been three months now since Mako left. Three months of endless scavenging and stealing, of anxiety and the constant threat of starvation. I began collecting scraps soon after I left Sombra, and even made myself a cranky, crummy peg leg that sometimes buckles when I stand but is worlds better than the crutch. Hard to craft that with one hand, but that's the way things are now.

Last week I woke up from a dream that Mako had come back. That he had apologized, and that I had a chance to make things up to him. When the dream faded all I could do was sit there, curled into a ball with my face pressed against my knees, trying to forget it. I thought I was over that, see. I thought I had moved on. Scary, realizing I hadn't.

One day the wanted posters for Roadhog come down. There were dozens of them round the city and suddenly they all come down at once. I refuse to think about what that means, though of course I know. I just keep going about me day until I can't ignore it anymore.

I can't help but feel it's my fault, even though he's the one that left. I didn't go looking. I didn't make any effort to contact him, not once. And now... well, now it's really too late.

Feels awful, like someone's carved open my chest and ripped out something real important. I can't eat. I sit in my little hideout, staring blankly at the poster I managed to snag. It's not a good picture of him. Doesn't really show his character. I wish I had something better to remember him by.

I stare at the photo for I don't know how long. It gets dark soon. Eventually I force myself to take a deep breath and fold up the poster. I can't keep on like this, not forever. I have to move on. Lose, move on. Lose, move on. I've done this a hundred times.

This time is harder.

I lay on my back, one arm over my middle, staring at the low ceiling. I try to think about tomorrow. Where I'll go for food. And I'll have to find a job again soon. Like anyone's gonna hire a kid with a peg leg and a missing arm.

Something heavy thuds in the distance. I sit up suddenly and stare, eyes wide, trying to find where it came from. Another thump, closer this time. Footsteps on wood. I push myself to my feet and grab the knife from the floor next to the dying fire. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Aw hell.

I can't hold my own, not even against one junker. Every time I fought them off since I lost my leg, I had Mako to distract em. And if he's armed with anything better than a dull old kitchen knife...

A huge man lumbers into the fading firefight. I drop the knife with a clatter.

"Hey," he says in a deep, rumbling growl.

I open my mouth but no sound comes out. He steps closer and flops down on the floor, staring at the embers.

"You look well," he says.

"You--" My voice sounds strangled. "You left me. You're dead."

He chuckles, low and heavy, his huge shoulders shaking. "Yeah," he says. "Made sure they thought that."

"Wha?" I sit down, not because I want to, but because I can't seem to stay on my feet.

"They thought they killed me," he says. "They didn't."

I can only stare at him, open-mouthed. He turns his head and regards me through the old hog mask. "Surprised?" he asks. I nod. "You thought I was leaving forever?" He snorts at the look on my face. "Idiot."

I bite my lip to keep it from trembling. "I thought you hated me," I blurt out. "I thought you left cause I-- cause I-- wasn't good enough--"

"C'mere." Mako takes me by the shoulder and pulls me to his side. "I don't do that." His arm feels heavy round my shoulders as I sniffle.

"I hate you, you big git," I say. "Don't you do that to me. I almost died."

"You didn't," he says, softly. "You learned."

"What was I supposed to have learned, anyway?" I demand, glaring up at him through tears. "That you're the real reason I'm still alive? Cause I've known that for years now."

"That you're strong," he says.

And finally I break down into sobs. All the fear and anger and sadness and hopelessness that I've tried to hide these long years comes spilling out at once. Mako squeezes my shoulder and says nothing. At first I try talking through the tears but since that's incoherent, I end up just blubbering all over him. He smooths down my hair with fingers surprisingly gentle for their size.

"Promise me," I finally manage. "Promise me you won't never do that again."

Mako nods.

He keeps rubbing my arm even as I start to calm down, breathing deeper and slower. The fire dies and we're left in darkness.

I don't remember falling asleep, but sometime later I wake up to Mako pulling a blanket over my shoulders.

"Thanks," I mumble. I twist over in the blanket and huddle closer to his warmth. "Good man. Don't bother keepin' watch, you need your rest too."

He chuckles, and soon I feel him lay down beside me on the dusty floor.


End file.
